Of Course I Do
by TotallyUtterlySherlocked
Summary: Just ridiculous Johnlock fluff because I felt like it. Inspired by 'Magic' by Coldplay.


**A/N: JOHNLOCK FLUFF BECAUSE I HEARD 'MAGIC' BY COLDPLAY AND THEN THIS NEEDED TO HAPPEN. I'M NOT EVEN** **SORRY. **

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything, nope, nothing at all. Please don't sue me.**

* * *

This had been a _horrific_ day.

Not only had John been spat on, puked on, and bled on (all by the same drunken man who was in for appendicitis), it was also raining and he hadn't thought to bring a jacket. Or an umbrella.

So now he was fumbling with keys because his hands were too numb to work right. He finally got the street door open and shuddered with both cold and relief when he made it into the warm flat. Usually he'd pop in to say hello to Mrs. Hudson, but today he was too wet and miserable. All he wanted to do was get inside, take a blistering hot shower, and go to bed.

He was just struggling with the key to the flat when the door suddenly opened and he was whisked inside.

Before he could get a word in, Sherlock pressed him against the wall and proceeded to snog the life out of him. After John got his breath back, John lightly pushed himself away, but Sherlock took to nibbling at the shell of his ear instead.

"Happy anniversary, John," His voice was low and husky and his breath warm and moist against John's ear.

And then John remembered.

"_Shit_, Sherlock, I'm so sorry! I completely forgot." He shut his eyes and let his head fall back against the wall, and he sighed.

"Not to worry," replied Sherlock, a smile in his voice. "Come with me." And so John let himself be led.

* * *

John wasn't entirely sure what to expect when Sherlock led him into the kitchen. Suffice it to say, however, he definitely hadn't expected what he found.

The table was free of experiments and was instead set for two. A candle sat in the middle of it, and there was food already on plates. Angelo's, judging by the scent of Italian.

They both sat down, and John was absolutely floored when Sherlock started to eat. So floored in fact, that his jaw dropped and he sat there with his mouth open until Sherlock smiled at him and advised him to eat instead of trying to catch flies.

Dinner was a quiet affair. Sherlock didn't bother to ask how John's day was, so John didn't bother to tell him. Besides, he knew that Sherlock had already deduced it. Instead, they reminisced over the past year, and especially Anderson and Donovan's reaction to seeing them basically make out in Lestrade's office. This memory made John laugh so hard he had to go into the bathroom to wash his face because there were tears of laughter pouring down his cheeks. When he came back, the table was cleared and Sherlock was waiting for him expectantly in the sitting room.

* * *

As soon as he saw John, he turned on his phone and tapped at it a few times before setting it on the coffee table. Then he turned to John, bowed low at the waist, and extended a hand. Looking up at John through his lashes, he murmured, "May I have this dance?"

John's cheeks burned hot but he took Sherlock's hand. Despite lessons, John still wasn't very good, so the dance turned into more of Sherlock rocking John, but John got to listen to his favorite sound in the world: the sound of Sherlock's heartbeat right under his ear.

_"And if you were to ask me,_

_After all that we've been through,_

_Still believe in magic,_

_Oh yes I do."_

Sherlock's lips pressed against John's hair and he sang quietly, so quietly John couldn't make out the words but felt the vibrations.

The detective pulled away and looked at John, very seriously. "John, this is our fifth anniversary. We've been together longer than that, really, but...officially, five entire years." A small smile quirked at the corners of his mouth, but then he went on. "I can say, in all seriousness, that I would not still be alive if it weren't for you, John Watson."

John opened his mouth to reply, but Sherlock quieted him with a surprisingly chaste kiss.

"I love you," he said earnestly, and then he gently released the doctor to sink fluidly down onto one knee. "And I want the entire world to now that you are mine and I am yours." He inhaled shakily. "So, John Hamish Watson." With trembling hands he fumbled for his trouser pocket to pull out a small, innocuous black box.

"Will you marry me?" He flipped it open to reveal a remarkably understated (for Sherlock) gold band.

John Watson was struck dumb.

With his voice trembling, he replied: "Oh, God yes."

Sherlock's face lit up and he tugged John close so he could kiss the doctor soundly. When they pulled away, John saw a glimmer of desire in the detective's eyes. "You know, most people don't actually consummate their proposal."

The smirk Sherlock gave him sent John's heart fluttering. "I'm not most people."

They moved on to Sherlock's room, tugging at buttons and zippers, while Sherlock's phone lay forgotten in the sitting room, song on repeat.

"_And I don't, and I don't, and I don't,_

_No I don't, it's true._

_I don't, no I don't, no I don't, no I don't,_

_Want anybody else but you..."_


End file.
